Florida's springs face crisis from pollution, declining flows

Kevin Spear, Orlando Sentinel

Florida's springs are places of visual magic, as two paddlers discovered recently at Rainbow Springs in Marion County. The water there was so clear, their kayaks on the spring's surface appeared suspended in air, casting distinct shadows on the sandy bottom 10 feet below.

But that illusion hides a dirty truth: Rainbow Springs' water is far from pristine. The biggest illusion, riled-up environmentalists say, is that the state of Florida is doing enough to protect its unique array of springs.

Florida springs are in failing health, an epidemic brought on by pollution and shrinking amounts of water flowing up from the aquifer below. The two maladies are attacking most of the state's springs.

"Almost all of the major springs are continuing to deteriorate," said Bob Knight, director of the Howard T. Odum Florida Springs Institute. "I don't want to say it's criminal, but the laws protecting springs just aren't being enforced."

Florida's springs include some of the state's best natural treasures. Formed by crystalline rivers of water that surge from underground, many are large, deep pools. In better times, those pools shimmered like pale, blue glass, but these days an increasing number of them have the green cast of an unkempt fish aquarium.

Scientists first noted the problem decades ago, but now there is growing dismay at what is happening. Of the more than 1,000 springs statewide, the biggest and most popular are tourist attractions and recreational magnets that, until recently, were presumed safeguarded within public lands, including 16 state parks named after the "best of the best" springs they protect.

Among the first bought by the state: Wekiwa Springs, just north of Orlando, back in 1969. Other namesake parks in Central Florida include Blue Spring and De Leon Springs, both in Volusia County.

"The thought was that, to save a spring, you buy it," said Jim Stevenson, a retired chief naturalist for the Florida park system. "It turns out when you buy a spring, what you are buying is the hole where the water comes out, but you aren't protecting the water. And without the water, all you have is a hole in the ground."

When a spring's water becomes polluted, he said, what you often wind up with is a mess of hydrilla weeds and mats of stringy algae that displace the natural flora and fauna.

"Nobody knows if springs can recover from that," Stevenson said.

A yearlong investigation by the Orlando Sentinel examined the health of Florida rivers and found overall decline in 22 rivers chosen for study as a statewide cross section. Of the 10 rivers rated as in decline, half are fed primarily by springs.

The destroyers of rivers in decades past were readily visible: things such as sewage-treatment plants and channel dredges. Today, the foes of springs and their rivers are much less apparent.

The source of nearly all of the state's springs, the Floridan Aquifer, is deep in the ground, which makes it difficult to understand with precision why the springs above are losing their potency and purity.

In recent years, water managers have been increasingly vocal about how heavy pumping of water by utilities in the fast-growing Orlando area has contributed to declining flows from springs that contribute to the Wekiva River.

Meanwhile, springs are being spiked with an invisible pollution: a plant nutrient called nitrate that can cause hydrilla, other weeds and various kinds of algae to grow explosively. Nitrate sources include septic tanks, lawn fertilizers and agricultural runoff.

Because nitrates must soak into the ground and pass through the Floridan Aquifer to get to a spring, it can be difficult to determine the source of the pollution afflicting any particular location. Still, scientists have documented profound changes in various springs' chemistry.

Joe Hand, who retired recently after 35 years with the state Department of Environmental Protection, where he was a top water-quality analyst, assembled for the Sentinel a series of data graphics that illustrate the striking changes that have occurred at four springs — Ichetucknee, Rainbow, Silver and Wekiwa — during the past decade.

The water flowing from those springs and many others is generally very clean, but in certain pollutant categories it's terrible, Hand said. Concentrations of elements such as chloride, sodium, potassium and calcium have shot up.

"Most springs are showing that trend, and it's alarming," said Hand, who first began seeing changes in the data a little more than a decade ago. "But the kicker is, where's it coming from?"

Many scientists think the spikes in pollutants suggest that the aquifer is running out of its cleanest fresh water. What's left is older, saltier and generally more mineral-intense.

The culprits suspected of depleting the cleaner water in recent years include reduced rainfall and sustained pumping, while the contamination is thought to be the result of rising sea levels and pollution invading the aquifer from above.

"Saltwater encroachment is a hugely significant issue," the Florida Geological Survey warned in 2009 report. "Saltwater can restrict water use and negatively affect freshwater ecology."

Among those getting significantly saltier, Wekiwa Springs near Orlando so delights children with its gush of 40 million gallons a day they will swim until their teeth chatter.

Other springs produce many times as much flow, including Rainbow; Silver, near Ocala; Ichetucknee, north of Gainesville; and Wakulla, south of Tallahassee.

The Ichetucknee has lured generations of University of Florida students to the river it creates for hours spent floating downstream on inner tubes, experiencing what it's like when a crystal-clear river gushes from the ground and surges noiselessly through cypress forest.

"It's a rite of passage," said Vernis Wray, owner of Ichetucknee Family Canoe & Cabins. But during the past 16 years, Wray has observed a thickening fuzz of green algae smothering the river's grasses and its white-sand bottom.

Florida's efforts to protect such places gained momentum in 2001 when Gov. Jeb Bush created the Florida Springs Initiative and Task Force and lawmakers funded it with $2.5 million a year.

Last year, Gov. Rick Scott eliminated the task force and its work, opting instead to target specific springs with cleanup projects and monitoring systems at a onetime cost of $11 million — an expenditure that critics say is not entirely devoted to springs improvements.

The state DEP stresses that it has accelerated the complicated work of setting protective standards for spring pollution and flow. But springs advocates say too little is being done to meet the standards in place now.

Standards are "more geared toward creating the illusion of regulation than actually protecting our springs," the Center for Earth Jurisprudence at Barry University School of Law in Orlando said in a letter to state officials last month.

Springs scientist Todd Kincaid said the state's treasures are unmatched — and underappreciated.

"You can go to places in the world and find springs that are equivalent in size to a Wakulla Springs or a Silver Springs," Kincaid said. "But you can't go anywhere else in the world and, basically, drive along a Highway 27 where you have one big spring after another all the way from Tampa to Tallahassee."